


Blizzard

by doeful



Category: Lost
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 19:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doeful/pseuds/doeful
Summary: It was just a dream, wasn't it?





	Blizzard

December 19th, 1974

Ben stood in the middle of the snowy landscape, shivering slightly. White flakes whirled all around him, the sky obscured by dark grey clouds and a haze of white flurries. It was night, a cold, dark night, and Ben was standing ankle-deep in snow. The white-blanketed hills stretched out in front of him as far as the eye could see. Ben felt warmth behind him and turned to see a series of small cabin-like log houses. They were buried in the snow, no footsteps to be seen around their doors. The windows were glowing with a beautiful, warm, yellow light. The houses radiated warmth and comfort, impressions of hot showers, soft comfortable pajamas, a hearty, delicious dinner, and a warm soft bed. Ben felt himself almost salivating with yearning, he was drawn immensely to the houses, it was so cold outside, he was hungry and weak and lost, and yet he stood unmoving.

The wind picked up, the snow whipped around and blew in his face and Ben wrapped his arms around his body in an attempt to keep warm. He could feel his hands and feet going numb, teeth chattering. And yet, he didn’t move. For some reason, despite him nearly tearing up with the intensity of the cold, he didn’t go toward the houses. He felt the sudden need to turn back around, out against the snowy landscape. When he did so, however, he nearly fell over in shock.

“M-mom?”

His mother, wearing the blue dress she usually wore, stood a ways out into the snow. She stood knowing, elegant, dignified as she usually did, watching him soundlessly. Ben shivered again, from fear rather than cold, and felt tears come to his eyes. He wanted to speak, to call out for her, but his mouth was bone-dry. It felt as if she was silencing him. Ben lowered his gaze in shame, feeling her eyes on him. There was a crunch in the snow and he looked up, his heart jumped into his throat as he saw her walking away. Immediately he felt an almost painfully strong pull towards her, throbbing like a burning, open wound in his chest. Go, follow her! She wants you to follow her!

Ben turned to look over his shoulder at the warm, enticing houses. He knew he could just walk in, be fed and clothed and cleaned and never have to go back out into the cold again. It was freezing, he swore if he cried his tears would turn to ice, and he was shivering uncontrollably. He was starving, a deep, gnawing hunger like he hadn’t eaten for days, and he was bone-tired, as if moments away from collapsing from exhaustion. How good a warm bed and a warm meal and a warm shower would feel right now, Ben almost melted imagining it. It was right there, he could just take a few steps and he wouldn’t be cold. But…

Ben took a step toward the snowy landscape, turning away from the warm houses and walking away adamantly, at least trying to get out of sight of the warm yellow glow so he wouldn’t be tempted to turn back. He needed to do this, to follow her. It was freezing cold, the wind was blowing snow in his face, and it was getting oppressively dark, but what was a little cold? What was a little discomfort? God knows what she went through—what he put her through, he could do it for her. He deserved it. 

She faded more and more into the dark grey haze, which inched closer and closer. The wind blew right in Ben’s face, the snow beginning to get thicker and thicker and the blizzard more and more harsh. The world was nothing but the grey fog and the white snow, which was now almost up to Ben’s knees. He couldn’t feel his legs or his hands, his entire body throbbed with white-hot burning frostbite, yet he pressed onward. He couldn’t leave her, he had to prove… Prove that he could follow her, that he would do anything for her. His thoughts began to slur, and his mind worked slower and slower, but Ben desperately clung to consciousness.

Suddenly, she was out of sight. Ben stopped, eyes wide. Oh god. Oh no, oh no- Immediately he tried to run forward, but his legs nearly gave out and he had to stop. He looked around for her desperately, fear clawing at his chest, terror bringing tears to his eyes. 

“Mom!” He called out, his cracking voice barely audible against the deafening howl of the wind. He shivered, a deep feeling of loss and emptiness making his heart sink. She couldn’t be gone, she must have noticed he wasn’t following, she couldn’t have just left him there—. Ben’s mind spun with thoughts and questions and panic. Immediately, he set off again, now more unsteady and struggling in the knee-deep snow. The flurry of snow was so vicious now he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. It was so, so cold, he couldn’t even feel anything anymore. Ben felt his legs stumbling and shaking, and he grit his teeth in frustration and desperation as he continued to struggle against his legs desperately trying to give out.

Suddenly, his knees buckled beneath him and he was plunged into the icy snow. Ben shivered and clawed at the snow, feeling is limbs throb with frostbite. Oh god, it was so cold. He attempted to get his legs beneath him, but the snow was too deep, and he was far too weak. He couldn’t tell what direction he was facing or where he was, all he could see was the snow and the fog. He tried to get up again. And again. And again. But every time he fell, further and further into the snow. His arms were so weak he could barely hold himself up, and he was so cold spots were swirling in his vision. The world in front of him blurred, but suddenly he could see a bit of red against the stark white. His stomach lurched at the sight of- oh god- was that blood? His blood? He put a shaky, frostbitten hand to his face and felt the hot blood dribbling from his nose and mouth, splattering onto the snow. Ben immediately felt faint at the sight, trying to hold himself up but his arms were so weak and—.

Suddenly, he was face-down in the snow. Ben struggled to get up, but the snow fell away under his hands. He was cold and soaking wet, shivering and faint. Why didn’t he just go to those houses, and he wouldn’t be out here, lost and freezing. After a few moments of trying to hold himself up, his arms gave out and he collapsed, too tired to keep trying. He didn’t even feel cold anymore just—numb. Tired. I’ll just close my eyes for a bit, just to rest, then I’ll try again. He closed his eyes, and immediately felt a terrible, jarring pain in his chest.

Ben sat up in bed with a cry, his heart pounding in his chest and tears streaming down his cheeks. He stared ahead, his mind reeling as he tried to figure out what had just happened. He was in his bed, in his room, in his house. No snow, no cold, and no mom. Ben fell back against the bed, feeling exhausted as if he’d really been walking through the snow. He stared blankly up at the ceiling, waiting for his heart to stop pounding. It was a dream, just a dream… But what did it mean? The memory of it was already fading, but the feelings still remained. He felt too scared to go back to sleep, at least not yet. 

Ben swung his legs over the side of his bed, waiting for the world to stop spinning. Quietly he stumbled down the hallway to the bathroom, flipping on the light and staring at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t bleeding at least and wasn’t cold and soaking wet. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of ice-cold dread hanging over him. He splashed water on his face, downed a glass of water, and stumbled back to bed. He felt awful, his heart still pounding in his chest, paranoia sending chills down his spine. He tossed and turned, desperate for sleep, but he just couldn’t stop feeling strange. What did it mean?


End file.
